


Triage

by kittenofdoomage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Bombs, F/M, Fluff, Gore, Graphic Description of Injuries, Guns, Reader Insert, Shower Sex, Smut, Violence, War AU, injuries, sergeant!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 12:45:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13951827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittenofdoomage/pseuds/kittenofdoomage
Summary: They’re in dangerous enemy territory, and the only comfort they have is each other. A/N: I do not know anything about the US Military. This is entirely a work of fiction and is probably complete bullshit.





	Triage

“Dean,” Y/N gasped, gripping the waistband of his pants in her fingers. “We can’t, not here, I’m supposed to be -”

“I know,” Dean grunted, kissing a path down her throat. “I just… I missed you.”

“I was out on patrol for six hours, Dean. It was a clean sweep. I’m here.”

He huffed a laugh out, pulling back from her. “Every time one of us goes out there…”

“Sssh,” Y/N replied, cupping his face with her hands. “I know. But the next patrol, we’re together. I’ll be in your line of sight at all times, I promise. Unless, you know, you order me to be elsewhere.”

Dean shook his head, grasping her hands in his and holding her knuckles to his lips. “What time does your sentry duty end?” he asked, kissing her skin softly.

“In thirty minutes,” she replied, standing back as she heard footsteps in the sand towards them. “Is there something I can help you with, Sergeant?” Private Milligan walked past, sneering at them both, and Dean scowled back.

“Problem, Private?”

“No, Sergeant Winchester, Private Singer,” Milligan replied, quickly marching off. Dean’s scowl didn’t recede until the boy was out of sight, and he looked back to Y/N. 

“Finish your shift. Meet me at the officer’s mess.” Y/N frowned, tilting her head to one side. “No one else is gonna be there, Y/N, I promise.”

*****

It had started six months into her basic training at Fort Jackson. Training was brutal, and Y/N loved every second of it. Each day ended with more bruises and exhaustion, and she was the first up each morning, eager to learn everything she could.

Sergeant Winchester was on light duty and while he was healing, he was based at the training center. Y/N hadn’t really noticed him at first, until she’d applied for medical field training, and was on the triage team for an exercise. He was the senior officer in charge of the medical squad, and he was smooth as anything.

They slept together a week later.

It was against the rules. It broke every promise she’d made to herself.

But she couldn’t help it. She fell hard and fast, and Dean played all the angles to get time alone with her.

So Y/N wasn’t surprised when she passed out of training and was assigned to Sergeant Winchester’s unit. They were deployed overseas three months later, and now, it was harder than ever to keep their affair under wraps.

Patrols were gruelling, and Y/N wondered if she was cut out for the army. Dean said she was doing fine, but she didn’t know if he was protecting her, trying to keep her safe. Sometimes, she would be swapped out for patrols, resigned to the medical camp, and she couldn’t help but think someone was pulling strings.

Dean was waiting for her, alone in the officer’s mess, a smile on his face. He was in his full dress uniform, and Y/N paused, looking down at her combats and camos, frowning back up at him. “I gotta ask you a question,” he said, dropping down to one knee, and Y/N gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Dean… you can’t -”

“It’s not against the rules if we’re married,” he murmured, opening his palm to show her a ring. “And it’s been three years. We’ve been professional, no one knows.”

“Dean, if we do this, people will know and -”

“Okay, so Corporal Singer knows,” Dean interrupted, his cheeks a little red and his eyes anywhere but on her. Y/N’s eyes went wide, and she reeled back a little. “Well I had to ask him permission!” he defended, and this time, her eyes narrowed in suspicious.

“You asked my father? I mean, traditional, yeah, but I’ll marry whoever the fuck -”

“No, no,” Dean laughed, shaking his head. “I had to ask for permission to do it here. He’s my commanding officer.” He stood up, grunting at the crick in his knee. “Y/N, I love you. I’ve been in love with you since you spent three hours calling me a dumbass and practicing sutures on oranges.” His hands were cupping her face now, and Y/N felt tears in her eyes. “I wanna know we’re going home to live a life together. There’s no rule to break if we keep to private time, off-duty - they can’t do anything. I checked.”

“You really wanna marry me?” she asked, blinking away her tears.

“Would I have bribed six high ranking members of the US Military to get this diamond if I didn’t?” Dean whispered, and she laughed a sob in reaction. Holding her hand up, Y/N waited, and Dean smiled, slipping the ring onto her finger. “So, that’s a yes?”

She nodded, pushing up onto tiptoes to kiss him, flinging her arms around his neck. “That’s a yes.”

“Good, because the ordained staff sergeant from B unit is in Corporal Turner’s office,” Dean rushed out, and Y/N pulled back, staring at him in shock. “We can do the big party when we’re home. Right now, all I care about is that you’re Private Winchester, not Private Singer, and that we get out of here together.”

The tears were falling pretty freely now, and she smiled. “Let’s do it.”

“Those are happy tears, right?” Dean asked, grinning that lopsided boyish grin that Y/N loved so much.

“Of course they’re happy tears!” she laughed, slapping his chest, and he tugged her towards the door. “Are we really doing this?” she squealed, and Dean nodded, spinning her into his arms and kissing her fiercely.

“Yeah we are.”

*****

“Are we really not gonna get in trouble for this?” Y/N whispered, following Dean down the back of the officers mess towards the showers. Dean nodded, pulling her along by the hand, marvelling at the feel of his ring on her finger. He’d waited too long for this - he wasn’t waiting to consummate the marriage.

Paying the sentry guards to avoid the showers for an hour or so… it was worth the sacrifice.

Showers in a prefabricated trailer were not the most luxurious of things, but Y/N didn’t seem to care as Dean dragged her in through the door, his fingers working to get her uniform off. They puddled clothes along the floor towards the nearest cubicle, drawing the curtain behind them.

“Dean,” Y/N whimpered, pulling at the buttons of his dress shirt. “Need you…”

He grunted in return, kissing down her neck, pulling her blouse and bra cup down to latch his lips onto her hard nipple, pressing her against the wall. It bounced with the impact, but their urgency was too much to be distracted from.

Y/N’s blouse landed on the floor, soaking up the water when Dean turned on the shower, pushing her under the spray. His clothes joined her blouse and pants, making a soft splat when they hit the plastic-covered floor.

“Did you bring a condom?” Dean asked, pulling away from her lips briefly, and Y/N shook her head. “Baby -”

“Dean,” she hissed, “it doesn’t matter. I’ve been on depo for months. If this is our first time as… as husband and wife, then I wanna feel it. Feel everything.” She gestured to the rest of the room. “We’re in the best place to clean up.” Dean chuckled, kissing her hard in response, cupping her bare ass and lifting her up to wrap her legs around his waist.

“God, you have no idea how sexy that sounds,” he growled, rutting against her. “Being bare inside you, feeling how wet and hot you are.” Y/N whimpered, and Dean reached between their soaked bodies, pressing his thumb into her clit. “You wanna do this slow or -”

“I want you. Inside me, now,” she replied, a sly smile on her face as she wrapped her fingers around his cock and elicited a deep rumble from his chest.

She didn’t have to say it twice, Dean let her guide him to her soaked cunt, and he sank in slowly, both of them groaning. He held still for a moment, resting his forehead against hers, breathing in her scent as the water kept cascading over them. “I love you,” he whispered reverently. “I know I don’t say it much -”

“You don’t need to,” she insisted, dragging her hands from his neck to cup his face. The balance between them was precariously, but they were clinging on so tightly, they weren’t going to let go. “You show me, every day.”

She clenched around him, making him whine low in his throat, and Dean pressed his lips to her, kissing her firmly as he started to move.

It was quick, and messy, but it was perfect. They rushed, but they felt like they had all the time in the world. Even though they would sleep in separate beds tonight, they’d think about each other, knowing this was the start of their lives together.

*****

“Two days, two days,” Y/N chanted to herself, sprinting as fast she could with the pack on her back. In the distance, gunfire echoed off of the sandy hills, and a mortar shell exploded, sending a plume of charred dirt into the air.

“Private Winchester!” someone called, and she span on her heel, seeing one of the other sergeants waving her over. She ran, trying not to indulge in the warmth that blossomed through her chest at her new name. It had only been hers for a few weeks, but it felt  _ right _ .

But right now, she had a job to do. Dashing into the medical tent, she saw the horror and gore that battle provided, and headed straight to the worst casualty.

Time didn’t have any meaning as Y/N worked on sutures and wounds, wincing when her friends and colleagues were brought in with disfiguring injuries - they lost two within the space of hours. The attack was still going, and it was dark when she finally got five minutes to have a drink of water and take stock. Acting Medical Sergeant Finch was calling for her, and Y/N sighed, standing straight and jogging over to him. “Yes, sir?”

“We’ve got infantry coming in with serious wounds. I need you to head out with Private Milligan to provide emergency triage on the field.”

Y/N nodded, grabbing one of the portable medical kits. Private Milligan was hovering by the door, his face pale and drawn. “You okay, Adam?” she asked, keeping her voice low as he swallowed and nodded. He was obviously affected by the first real combat he’d faced, but he kept up with her as she ran towards where the main bulk of fighting was taking place.

A mortar shell detonated near them, and Private Milligan hit the deck, covering his head. Y/N slid to a stop beside him, checking him over. “I’m okay, I’m okay,” he insisted, looking up with sand covering his face. “We gotta keep moving.”

She helped him up, pushing them both forward until soldiers came into view. Y/N passed over minor wounds, skidding to a halt when she saw a more aggressive injury. The young soldier was holding his own guts, blood seeping through his stomach. She lifted his fingers, ignoring her own gag reflex when she caught sight of intestines leaking out of the gash in his belly.

“Shit… he needs surgery. I can’t deal with this.” Her eyes were wide and panicked as she looked to Private Milligan. “We need to get him back to camp.”

The sound of her name was mixed with mortar fire all around him, and Y/N felt the sharp sting of a bullet ripping through her thigh, and she screamed, hitting the ground. Her ears were ringing, and dust filled her eyes, prompting her to crawl into a ball to shield herself.

“Y/N…”

Slowly, she opened her eyes, seeing Private Milligan opposite her, dead glassy eyes staring into her soul. Tears dripped down her cheeks, mingling with blood that wasn’t her own on her skin. The soldier with the stomach wound was dead, no longer holding his guts inside, and they stained the sand with red and pink.

Someone called her name again, and she saw him then.

Dean was propped up against a crumbled wall, covered from head to toe in dirt and blood, and one leg bent underneath him awkwardly while the other… the other was gone. His kneecap had been blown away, and there was no sign of the rest of his limb. He was dribbling blood from the corner of his mouth, reaching out to her.

“Y/N…”

She was sobbing as she crawled towards him, dragging the medical kit with her. She couldn’t save Adam, she couldn’t save the other soldier - Dean was still alive, and she was determined to save him. “I’m here,” she grunted, ignoring the pain in her leg.

“You’re hit,” he said, weakly, cupping her face and smearing more blood over her cheek. “You need -”

“Baby, I gotta figure this out,” she begged, opening the kit and ignoring his attempts to look after her. “What happened?”

“Patrol went south. Hit some scouts. Mortars started. We need to get out of here.”

Y/N shook her head. “Not a chance right now,” she insisted, starting to wrap up the mangled remains of his left leg. “Hey, it’s okay. Your right leg might be broken, but we can fix it. You’ll drive your Impala again.”

Dean laughed without humor, his face paler than it should have been. “Not driving it without you by my side, Mrs Winchester.” He groaned in pain when she tightened the tourniquet around the stump, and Y/N couldn’t stop her bottom lip from wobbling. It was a serious wound, one that needed medical attention immediately, and more than she could provide. “Hey,” he whispered, barely able to keep his eyes open. “I’m gonna… be… fine…”

“This is bad, Dean,” Y/N replied, wincing at the pain in her leg. “You need a blood transfusion, and surgery to seal the wound -”

“Sssh,” he murmured, letting his eyes fall shut.

Another mortar exploded in the distance, and Y/N shook her head, tears falling harder and harder. “You need to keep your eyes open, Dean, please, stay with me.”

“I just… need… you…” 

His words were so quiet, and Y/N screaming, shaking him, although she knew it was a stupid idea. But he’d lost consciousness and too much blood. She didn’t know if she could carry his significantly larger frame, especially with her own injury.

It was hopeless.

Dean was going to die. She had to get him back to base.

“Dean,” she pleaded, shaking him again. “Dean… please…”

He didn’t respond.

*****

The chapel was a little chilly, and Y/N shivered, dabbing at her eyes, trying not to smear mascara everywhere. The last thing she needed was more people asking if she was okay, crowding her like they had been doing for the previous two weeks.

Everyone had been there, constantly at the house, hovering, asking if she needed anything. It was like a constant buzz of sound when she just wanted some peace and quiet. It was May, sunny outside, and summer blooms were coming out everywhere.

Music started to play in the main church, and Y/N stood straight, giving herself a last once over as Dean’s brother, Sam, walked in, his suit crisply pressed and tie done up properly. Y/N smiled, reaching out to touch the red fabric, her eyes watering again. “Hey,” he said, smiling back, placing his hand on her shoulder. “We’re good to go.”

“Okay,” Y/N whispered. “My dad just went to the restroom. He’ll be back in a second.”

Sam smiled fondly, cupping her face. “It’s all gonna be fine,” he assured her, and Y/N laughed nervously, nodding her head.

“You scrub up nicely. Did Jessica do your tie?” He grinned bashfully, avoiding her eyes, and Y/N rubbed his arm. “God, I’m so nervous. There are people I don’t know in there, and I have to talk and -”

“You got this,” Sam replied, looking over her shoulder as Corporal Singer approached in full dress uniform, bobbing his head at the young man in greeting. “Mr Singer.”

“It’s Bobby, Sam. How’s your dad doing?”

“He’s good, thanks sir.” Sam looked to Y/N again, smiling and patting her shoulder. “I’m gonna head back in.” She nodded, covering his hand with her own for a moment, before turning and opening the door, disappearing from sight. Bobby stepped up to her side, smiling.

“Seems a little redundant, doesn’t it?” he asked, taking her arm, and Y/N chuckled.

“He wanted it to be done properly,” she replied, inhaling deeply. “I’m ready.”

“Okay,” Bobby replied, “I get that.” He gestured with his free arm, and they walked forward, the doors opening in the hands of the ushers on the other side. Y/N kept her pace even, trying not to burst into tears, pass out, or scream and run. A sea of faces met her as she walked in, music playing softly in the background.

Dean had chosen it. Led Zeppelin, one of his favorite bands.

Her neck itched, and Y/N tried to hold her composure when her eyes landed on him at the front of the church. He was dressed in his full military uniform, like he had been that night he’d proposed, and his hair slicked back neatly. It seemed to hard to breathe all of a second, and Bobby leaned in, asking if she was okay.

Dean smiled, and she was fine. His eyes shone with emotion he’d never been very good at expressing, and he leaned heavily on the cane at his side. Postponing the proper wedding had been a necessary decision, what with rehab and fitting for prosthetics. Dean was determined to walk down the aisle, to be standing waiting for her.

He wanted to watch her walk towards him like a dream, and be doing it on his own two legs. She’d saved his life - and he wanted to spend the rest of it with her.

Finally, she was at his side, and neither of them were aware of anyone else in the room, even as the priest started to speak. All Y/N could focus on was the warmth of his hands in hers, the sparkle in his eyes, and how much she loved him.

“I do,” Dean murmured.

“I do,” she affirmed, and she barely waited for the priest to give her the go ahead before her arms were around his neck, and her lips attached to his.

“We did it,” Dean chuckled, spinning her round in a disgustingly romantic fashion, and Y/N wouldn’t have had it any other way. “We really did it.”

“We did,” Y/N replied. “And maybe a little more,” she added, keeping her voice low. “Daddy…”


End file.
